


The Queen Bean Coffee Shop

by YourAverageNerd



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, I ship those two so hard, Kinda Fluffy, OTP Feels, Oneshot, Sort Of, coffee shop AU, it's my otp, nothing special, percabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 21:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15180086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourAverageNerd/pseuds/YourAverageNerd
Summary: Every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning without fail, she’s there. Same order, same spot, same look, same time, same routine. Except on Fridays. Fridays are special.





	The Queen Bean Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Hola Peoples.  
> I'm back!
> 
> This time-new fandom. Percy Jackson was legit my first fandom. I shipped Percabeth before I even knew what shipping was. So, naturally, I had to write a fanfic for it.
> 
> This is a drabble, nothing special. Something I thought of on a sunny day and felt like writing. Just lots of Percabeth fluff!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! 4 kudos and 1 comment on my last fanfic. Given that it was my first, I actually felt pretty proud. Thanks guys!

Every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning without fail, she’s there. 

Same order (tall caramel macchiato or frappuccino, depending on the weather, whole milk, with an extra drizzle of caramel on top), same spot (the blue-grey chair in the left corner with the seashell pillows next to the bookcase), same look (staring intently at her sleek silver laptop, drink in front of her, straw in her mouth, using both hands to type faster than what should be physically possible..) She’s always there at the same time (7:23 AM) and she always leaves at the same time (9:37 AM) in the same car (a silver 2008 Mercedes Benz C-class.) Then, at the end of the week (not counting weekends), the cycle starts over again.

The baristas at the Queen Bean Coffee Shop, no matter who was working that day, always know when she comes, and always have her order ready for her. Sometimes, it’s on the house. “One of our best customers,” they would say. “And she’s such a hard worker. Always going to some class or lecture. College is about learning, but it’s also about finding yourself and having fun. But, you can’t become a world-class architect with no study. Besides, if I had gotten into Harvard, I would be studying day and night to stay in. Good thing she’s got her friends to look after her.”

At exactly 9:37 AM, she closes her laptop, puts it in her bag (which was white with swirls of grey and turquoise), and stands up. She takes her hair (blonde with aquamarine/turquoise tips and a few streaks) down from its messy bun for the morning. She goes to the bathroom to refresh her makeup (not too many skin products, since her tan skin is practically flawless, but light lipstick, tan eyeshadow, and a hint of blush did wonders for good impressions.) Then, narrowing her stormy grey eyes in confidence, she strides out of the door, ready to face the world (or, at least, her college classes and the final judgement of what to get for lunch at her college’s cafeteria.)

Her last class ends at exactly 3:00 PM, so she’s at her internship at exactly 3:17 (it’s at a very fancy architecture firm, and she’s very proud.) The internship is very demanding, but perfect for her (being the type of person who organizes everything alphabetically and makes sure her blue-grey planner, which she has a hard copy of along with a planner app on her phone, is never far from her side.) She has impressed her bosses, who have already moved her up from a regular internship to something lower and middle level employees do, and have started paying her. She practically has a job already. 

She leaves the architecture firm at exactly 5:47 PM and arrives at the library at 5:59 PM. She spends the next two hours studying (not counting the studying she does in between classes). Beautifully written notes decorate numerous notebooks, and her enormous pencil pouch is filled with every shade of every color of pens, pencils, markers, brush pens, and everything else you can imagine. She turns studying into a work of art.

She leaves the library at exactly 8:05 PM. She orders takeout from a restaurant she feels good about that day, and she always orders extra on Friday. Then, she goes back to the Queen Bean Coffee Shop at exactly 8:19 PM and eats her dinner while being immersed in whatever new novel she’s reading that week.

Except on Fridays. On Fridays, after the internship, she drives her car home (a cozy little apartment personalized from top to bottom and so organized, it would make an OCD person relax the minute they stepped in), and she would walk to the coffee shop. On Fridays, she arrives at 8:23 PM at the coffee shop. On Fridays, she just reads her novel, food in front of her, still in its bag. On Fridays, somewhere between 8:20 and 8:40 (the timing is never consistent), the door to the Queen Bean Coffee Shop hurries open, and in comes a boy. He’s tall, has jet black hair, and sea green eyes. With his Clothes disheveled, hair ruffled, and his smile crooked, he instantly makes an impression as a troublemaker. But he looks at her like she’s the world.

  
  


“Hi!”

“Hey, idiot. I got you food.”

“Yay! Thanks! Ooh, it’s my favorite! Man, I love you.”

“I know.”

“How’re your classes? How’s the internship? Still kicking everyone’s asses?”

“Yup. You know, you can’t keep driving 3 hours every Friday, from Manhattan to Cambridge, just to pick me up.”

“Eh, Oo ow im onna o it an’wa.”

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“You know I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“Yeah, you will. How’s Sally?”

“She’s great! Oh, I almost forgot! Sally made cookies. Here! They’re all soft and delicious and melty and blue. Best mom ever!”

“Ooh, thanks. And how’s Paul? And Lydia?”

“As far as evil stepdads go, Paul’s not bad. I’m teaching how to ride my bike next week, it’s gonna be awesome. Lydia is adorable, as always.”

“Aww, I know!.”

“OH OH OH OH OH. Lydia said her first word! Guess what it was, guess what it was!”

“Calm down, jeez. But seriously! Her first word!? Tell me!!!”

“Weirdly enough, ‘book’ “

“Yes! Another nerd! We’ll join ranks!”

“Um, no. She’s  _ my _ stepsister. So she’ll side with me.”

“Please, I’m just as much as an older sibling to her than you.”

“True. You done?”

“Yup! Ready to go?”

“Upper East Side, here we come!”

“Your love for New York scares me.”

“New York is home. I love it.”

“Are we going to your apartment or Sally’s?”

“Mine. We’ll visit Sally, Paul, and Lydia tomorrow morning. Then-CAMP!”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Nope, I wanna see Lydia. I love her more than you.”

He gasps, with a hand over his chest. “Annabeth Chase! You have hurt me.”

She laughs and stands up, love in her eyes… “Percy, get up.” 

He smirks. “Make me.”

“Perseus Jackson! If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late!” She says, trying and succeeding to be scary, but he just laughs. “Do you  _ remember  _ what happened in Rhode Island!” Annabeth crosses her arms, and at that Percy shudders. 

“Ok, Ok. Getting up.”

They head to the door to leave. 

As he holds the door open for her, Annabeth says slyly, “And it won’t be Annabeth Chase for very long.”

Percy beams at her and slips his hand in hers. With Annabeth’s other hand, she twists the silver ring with an aquamarine gem. Together, they step out the doors of the Queen Bean Coffee Shop.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Sorry about Percy's little sister's name. I'm not really sure what it was in the books (I think it was Estelle or something) but I really don't like it. I changed the name a bit, hope that doesn't bother you guys too much.
> 
> This may be the first of a series of Percabeth drabbles, or it may be a stand-alone one shot. Comment what you guys think it should be.


End file.
